


You Were Six Feet Underneath Me

by ScaredOfHam



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Makoto doing his best, Post-Apocalypse, School Mode (Dangan Ronpa), mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 05:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13874202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScaredOfHam/pseuds/ScaredOfHam
Summary: For Mukuro, nothing made sense anymore. They'd built a magical rabbit that had saved them all and now they were free...? What was Junko planning? Why hadn't she contacted her about this? Why had Makoto kept talking to her during those fifty days?And now, why couldn't she bring herself to leave him alone...?





	You Were Six Feet Underneath Me

**Author's Note:**

> Edit- and then I realized that my Persona followers would still be notified when I posted fics on a pseud so what is the point of even having one hng
> 
> So I was almost finished with this draft, accidentally hit post, deleted it in a panic, and forgot how the summary and tags were supposed to go. *sigh* Trying my best to remember but jfc I suck.
> 
> Disclaimer- I haven't finished any of the games other than THH so I'm not actually sure how the outside world is. ^^; On the bright side, this won't have any spoilers past THH since it's just my guess for how it could be! Hope you enjoy! ^^

Mukuro was going to be alone again. That was fine, though. She deserved it. She should have asked Junko what was going on, what she was supposed to be doing while they were building those back-up Monokumas, and instead she'd been busy acting like a little girl every time Makoto talked to her and trying not to explode when he had held her hand. Pathetic, yes. But she couldn't help it.

Now, she was standing between Sakura and Chihiro as they all watched Makoto slowly open the door that would free them from Hope's Peak. But this just wasn't how it was supposed to go. What had her sister been thinking...? There had to be more to this. Was she about to start the game now? What _was_ that Usami thing, anyway? It had to be part of Junko's plans, right? Get their hopes up with this new escape, only for the key to be a dud and then have the game commence in actuality before they knew what was happening? Or maybe... Junko was craving the despair they'd feel as they realized what was really waiting for them out there-

As if to confirm her thoughts, Mondo bellowed, "WHAT THE FUCK?!?"

Makoto frowned. "I... I know it looks bad-" those beautiful, washed-out green eyes glanced over the glimpse of the wasteland peeking through the opening of the door once more, "-but we can't give up hope ye-" He broke off on a cough.

"Makoto?!? Are you alright?!? Do you need some water?!?"

"I'm okay, Taka... j-just, be careful breathing out here, guys."

"This is... quite unfortunate." Celeste was the first person to move, stepping past Makoto and into the hazy air. "It seems as though we have no choice but to walk to our destination."

Hifumi's jaw dropped. "NOOOOO-"

"Such  _ignorance-"_

"Good day, then." Celeste ignored them all, curtsied, and sauntered off on her own, disappearing from their sight in no time due to the barely-visible air.

"What the heck? Can she even breathe in that?" Hiro cried.

"It's not poisonous." Mukuro spoke without thinking.

"Oh? And how would _you_  know about that?" Byakuya sneered at her.

"Please don't give her such a hard time." Mukuro's heart skipped a beat in response to Makoto sticking up for her yet again-  _his hand so soft and warm against her own calloused palm..._ "She just has sharp survival instincts."

"Is that so?"

"The fuck does it matter? Let's get the hell out while we can!" For once, Mondo was the voice of reason and the others followed him outside.

"Uh, hey guys? I don't... know where my house is from here." Hina confessed with a nervous chuckle.

"Does anyone?" No one replied to Hiro's question.

"M-Maybe, just for now, we should... go in groups?" Chihiro suggested.

"That's an excellent strategy!!! Wouldn't you agree, bro?!?"

"Damn straight!" Mondo and Taka performed their 5 millionth fist bump.

"I'll be going by myself. You commoners will only slow me down."

"Wait! Byakuya!" The blond didn't listen to Makoto, disappearing like Celeste.

"Don't bother going after him, man. That bastard isn't gonna listen to any of us," Leo huffed. "So... how are these groups gonna be set up?"

They dissolved into chatter, and Mukuro knew she had to leave now, before Makoto noticed. Not because she actually thought he'd try to stop her, of course; she just didn't want to know how it'd feel if he saw but didn't care she was leaving. Oh, what the hell was she thinking? She was the Ultimate Soldier, immune to these foolish emotions-!

A familiar hand clasped her own, a familiar voice behind her. "Junko?" She turned, seeing a panting Makoto; she must have cleared quite a bit of distance in a short time.

"H-Hey, Makoto."

"Why... did you leave... like that?"

She bit her lip. "I'm just not a 'group work' kind of girl." Oh, that sounded  _so_ stupid. She didn't know how to act like an Ultimate Fashionista anymore....

Makoto's brow creased. "Well, I mean, I understand that, but..." For once, he seemed not to know what to say.

"What do ya mean?"

"I... I thought _we_ were going to stick together, though." His eyes were on the ground but his hand still hadn't left hers.

Oh, God. It was like how she felt about Junko, except way more confusing and terrifying and dangerous and... nice. He treated her with more kindness than anyone ever had, more kindness than she could ever deserve. Well... Sure, Junko had called her... every derisive word in the dictionary, but she loved her! She knew that. She was, after all, the only one that understood her sister. Anyway, no support on that end. Obviously, Fenrir had never given her the affection that she didn't need anyway, despite the fact those psychology books she'd read all said otherwise (what did they know about the Despair Sisters, after all?) -and yet every time Makoto treated her with such benevolence she just wanted to hold him and never let him go.

Aaaand she was blushing. Great. "You... You really meant that?"

His eyes widened. "Of course I did! I would do anything for everyone here, especially for you-" his own face flushed with color before he cleared his throat and pressed on, "But it can just be the two of us, right? Unless you don't want that-"

Finally, she squeezed his hand, not noticing him flinch from the strength of her grip. "Of course I want you to stay with me!" Her expression sombered. "I'm... I'm glad you followed me. I can keep you safe out here." Makoto was about to say something- likely some type of objection- but Mukuro continued, "Where do you want to go? I'll help you get there."

"Well..." Makoto sighed. "I want to go back to my family, but don't you want to see yours, too?"

"Uh... Don't have one." She grinned. "So that means we can just focus on finding yours, right? And then I'll be out of your hair!"

"Junko..." She still remembered when he called her Mukuro- god, she missed that. "I promise, I really,  _really_ want you to stay."

She swallowed. "Then... I'll stay as long as you want." She, of course, still had her memories, still knew the extent of the damage that had been dealt to the world. The Naegi family  _could_ still be holding on, and if they weren't, she'd do her best to keep him alive and happy anyway.

Though if they  _were_ dead and Makoto fell into despair... whose fault would that be?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn't take too long for the nails to pop off. She tried her best to keep them on, to hold onto a link to Junko and to keep up appearances with Makoto, but he hadn't seemed to even notice their absence. 

Mukuro's tattoo, of course, stayed hidden. Keeping the foundation in her pocket in case it came off as they searched for parts back in school had been the best idea she'd ever had. The makeup on her face had faded off-  she'd caught a glimpse of her reflection in a puddle and inwardly flinched, Junko's far-too-true comments echoing in her head- but the wig and clothes never changed. Not that any of them had cared to bring a change of clothes, but the point was, she wouldn't change out of these... rather odorous and often hard-to-move-in clothes if she could. 

After all, she couldn't tell him who she really was and have him leave. Who would keep him safe then?

But weighing far more heavily on her list of problems was Junko. What had happened? Her sister was always at the front of her mind. More than anything, Mukuro hoped she was okay.

Well, maybe... more than  _anything_ was pushing it (how could she even think that?).

"Hey, Makoto?'' She whipped around so suddenly "her" hair slapped her cheek. 

"Yeah?"

"Hungry yet?"

In the week or so they'd been out here, Makoto had quickly learned to stop paying attention to his surroundings and focus solely on following Junko. That was a lot easier than constantly staring at the wreck of the world around him and worrying every shadow was part of another mob (there were a lot of those now) or seeing random corpses laid out on the street. The first time they'd came across one, Makoto had thrown up, but Junko had calmly swiped the knife from his chest, wiped the pink splatters on the ground, and slipped it in her boot.

"We'll prob'ly need it later on," she'd explained when he'd stared at her in horror, and then she'd taken all the money he had and asked Makoto if  _he_ was okay. 

Guilt was eating away at him; he wasn't doing anything useful- everytime he tried to help, he ended up messing up. Junko never got angry, though, just said he was out of his element, which only made him feel worse. 

Now, he saw that they were near a tiny convenience store. Society wasn't as dead as he'd feared- there were still plenty of shops operating like normal, well, normal if you ignored that the clerks were donning bulletproof vests and toting weapons, anyway. He didn't recognize any of their surroundings so far, but Junko had said she knew of a library near Hope's Peak and that there should be maps there. He trusted her completely.

"A little but... Shouldn't we be out of money by now?"

"That's okay. Wait right here."

He obeyed, watching her disappear into the store. He knew about how she'd been homeless and how rough some of the things she'd done to survive must have been, but he hoped she wasn't doing anything dangerous now- no, she couldn't be. Surely she would have trusted him enough to help her, right...?

Abruptly the store's door swung open again and Junko calmly stepped out, armed with several bags. "C'mon, Makoto, we don't got all day!"

Makoto closed the distance between them, grabbing some of the bags to help her and gasping when he saw a smear of pink on her wrist. "Junko! Are you alright?" 

She followed his gaze, clearly confused. "Oh, that... I broke a nail."

Makoto arched an eyebrow. "I've broke mine before too and they've never bled... Are you sure you're okay?"

"It's a girl thing- y'know, from the paint and stuff." She laughed nervously. 

"How did you get all of this stuff?"

"Ah, well. Everyone still wants the Ultimate Fashionista's autograph, y'know?"

 Before she kicked the door closed, Makoto could have swore he caught a whiff of blood- no, that must have been his imagination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

However she'd got them, the bags of pre-packaged food lasted even after they'd found the library and Junko had retrieved a map. He'd known she was talented, but he was still taken aback at how she'd somehow managed to know the exact route to go; she must have studied the layout of... god, his house was pretty far from Hope's Peak... Had she memorized detailed maps of Japan before...?

Hell, sometimes he felt like she had military training. Forget any notions of chivalry; she was so good at sneaking around no one ever came near them. He didn't want to admit it, but his guilt was starting to eat him alive. He might not have much in the way of... anything... but he should be pulling his weight regardless, and instead, he was making Junko do absolutely everything.

"Makoto." She held out her hand for him to stop. They were going down an abandoned street lined with vandalized, looted shops, their whole environment possessing an eerie ambience.

"What is i-"

She turned smoothly and placed a finger over his lips as she scanned their surroundings. What was she even looking for...? Makoto felt on-edge, but try as he might, he couldn't actually see anything dangerous. "Alright, I think we're good." Junko whispered, taking a few cautious steps forward, glancing to the building beside them, an abandoned store with busted out windows, before creeping ahead and peeking around the corner-

She was on the ground before Makoto had even realized someone had been waiting for them beneath the shattered window. The figure was masked but Makoto hazily realized they were male before he'd easily taken the younger boy down, his hands tugging at Makoto's clothes, searching for money or food, finding nothing, Junko was the one that kept that crap in her clothes somehow, and his grip and movements were so rough they were bruising him-

Makoto struggled in his grasp, earning a knee to his fucking ribs- he gasped, his vision swimming from the sudden rush of agony- and then Junko was yelling, her voice laced with pain, "What the hell are you doing? Leave him alone, asshole!"

The man suddenly let go and Makoto fell face-first on the pavement. He must have realized one of them had to have something useful on them and was therefore moving towards Junko, who was staring at the approaching stranger with her gray eyes blown up in terror, and Makoto was crawling forward despite the pain, crying, "Don't hurt her! Don't-"

The moment the man leaned down, Junko's hand shot through the air so fast Makoto didn't realize what was going on until the knife was protruding from his back. Blood went  _everywhere,_ someone was screaming and when the man collapsed on her the blonde effortlessly shoved him away and the screaming didn't stop-

"Makoto! Calm down!" Junko rushed to his side- how could her gait still be so unaffected after that? "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?!?"

"I'm..." _Oh_ , it hurt to talk, "f-fine. Are you...?"

"Yup! Don't worry!"

"Is... he dead?"

"Oh. Yes, he's certainly-" She stopped, her eyes going exaggeratedly wide. "OH MY GOD! I JUST... I KILLED SOMEONE!" A sudden flash of clarity, something like an indisputable certainty with no identifiable source, made him absolutely sure she was lying. Her eyes were wide but her skin wasn't pale. Her screams were hysterical but her shaking was clearly forced. 

What the hell was going on...?

"Junko...?" He was still out of breath and dear god, his sides hurt.

"OH MY GOD, OHMYGOD-"

"You've done this before, haven't you?"

 _Now_ her face went pale. Junko's lips opened but nothing came out- her lips. Her lips were pretty, but... A model's lips...? Photoshop and makeup did a lot, but... If it was that easy, wouldn't _everyone_ be a model?

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." His voice was soft; for some reason, she flinched in response to it. "Just... you don't have to act like that, either. I'm never going to push you to do anything."

For a moment, he could have swore he caught a glimpse of tears in her eyes, but then she nodded calmly and proceeded to loot the body, finding a little bit of money and a lighter and pocketing both. When she turned to face him again, she looked normal (but was that really what she normally looked like, or was this particular façade just normal to Makoto?) "Let's keep going, then."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They ended up only going a little further; Makoto didn't say anything, but Mukuro could sense he was in pain. She only had to search a little bit before she found a safe place to rest, and Makoto hadn't objected despite the fact that the sun had only just began to set, which just proved he must be in pain and she'd been right to do this.

Their nights were always the same- one of them slept, the other kept guard, and then halfway through the night they'd switch. She'd volunteered to watch first, and after she'd checked for the third time to make sure his wounds were only bruises, Makoto had fallen asleep curled up in the corner, looking so small with his hoodie wrapped around him.

God, he was adorable. Someone she had to protect... Frankly, he was the only person she cared about other than Junko. But... Makoto wasn't like Junko at all. He'd never once spoke a cruel word to her, let alone hit her. Their entire time at Hope's Peak, before and after his memory loss, he'd never had an ulterior motive for talking to her. Those fifty days they'd spent working and cleaning... She'd been sure that now, this new, mentally younger Makoto would want to talk to her for the same reason every boy would want to talk to a model. And while it'd already been drilled into her brain that she was an ugly, worthless excuse for a girl that could never look appealing to anyone, especially not in comparison to  _Junko,_ she was pretty sure that desire would still be there...

...Except he really hadn't cared. The most flirtatious thing he'd done was hold her hand like that right before they'd escaped. He really didn't care. He hadn't even became upset over her killing someone without a hint of remorse, didn't even get upset even after he'd already found out that  _she was lying to him._

That should have been reassuring, and yet, it only terrified her more. Feeling relief due to his current behavior and letting her guard down would only make it hurt worse when she finally did tell him and he hated her. Fuck, it didn't matter even if Makoto was in love with her (which he wasn't, who could  _ever_ love her); the second someone finds out you stole their memories, put them in a fucked-up killing game so your sister could feel despair, and had literally destroyed the world, they're going to  _fucking hate you._ That was common sense. 

How had it came to this? What was Junko doing? What was  _Mukuro_ doing?

Unbidden, unfamiliar tears pricked at her eyes. "Damn it... God damn it," she breathed, her eyes flickering miserably around, always on the lookout. She owed him the truth. She owed him the right to hate her. She couldn't... despair over over his reaction. She'd just... keep up the act until the time came when he would be safe. After he rejected her, she'd just go back and help Junko (though she obviously didn't need Mukuro's help anymore...)

Roughly, she brushed her tears away. It'd all be okay in the end because that inevitable despair was what she deserved. She could live with that- hell, she could die with that- just so long as Makoto kept his hope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though nothing all that important occurred over the next few days, Junko was definitely acting different. Well... not _acting_ , but something in her demeanor seemed off. There was something in her eyes, something indecipherable, but if Makoto had to guess, he'd say it was something like... resolve. Of course, he didn't ask about it. She would tell him someday; she'd said that herself. And even if she didn't, did it really matter? The world was on the fast track to hell but she'd stayed by his side and helped him through all of it. Without a doubt, he owed her his life; what did a few secrets matter in comparison to that?

More importantly, today was positively freezing. The temperature only dropped further as time passed on, and the moon had just started to appear when Junko decided they needed to take shelter before they froze to death.

The only place within walking distance had been an abandoned gas station, and even after they ransacked the place for anything they could keep warm with, they could still see their breath; he didn't know how she even came up with the idea, but she made them both wear mittens and scarves crafted from toilet paper.

Just to lighten the tense-from-the-cold mood, Makoto said, "Is this how you became the Ultimate Fashionista?"

She snorted. "Hell yeah. Someday I'm gonna have to show you that shoot; after it every girl in the world was making toilet paper clothes, they had to chop like a billion trees down! Good times."

Makoto chuckled, burrowing further into his cocoon of cheap gas-station blankets. "Oh yeah, I remember that now! My sister made all these toilet paper hats, they were so creative."

"That's all she made? I saw so much toilet paper lingerie it wasn't even funny." Makoto immediately blushed; Junko snickered, playfully punching his shoulder. "Kidding, kidding!" She picked up her blankets and stood, already leaving as she said, "I'm gonna take first watch. You get some rest, m'kay?"

He kept the smile on his face until she was gone, then let out a bottled-up sigh. He wasn't sure why but he was starting to think that maybe... Junko wasn't actually prone to talk like that. Not because of his expectations of how an Ultimate Fashonista should talk; it was more like... the words just never seemed to match her eyes...? No, he was overthinking it. He really needed to stop being so damn suspicious...

At least the cold provided a good distraction. His teeth were actually chattering; when Junko came back to their corner, he had to put a hand over his mouth to stop the noise.

Except she noticed anyway. "Makoto? You okay?" He nodded, but she still pulled his hand away to confirm her suspicions and then proceeded to lay beside him, and then she was pulling him into her arms and oh god oh god oh god- well, at least his face was warm now. 

She snickered. "Hey, c'mon, you don't gotta be so tense! It's just me!" How was she not even fazed...? He awkwardly held her back, and even through all of those blankets and those weird gas-station T-shirts they'd layered on, he could feel the outline of her back which was somehow both lithe and muscular and she felt so warm...

In the moonlight from the window, he could see all the freckles on her face, the narrow curves of her eyes, always so clear and intelligent, the soft smile tugging at her lips... She was so beautiful, so smart and strong and brave and perfect, and yet she was wasting her valuable time protecting  _him,_ an average guy that you could find in any high school. He didn't understand... And his heartbeat wouldn't slow down... Fuck, someone save him...

"Why are you doing all of this for me?"

She seemed shocked, her nose wrinkling as she glared at him. "What do ya mean?"

"I'm obviously slowing you down, but... Crap, the only reason you're going there is for me. You're not getting anything out of this at all."

She didn't respond right away, blinking and chewing her lip thoughtfully. Maybe he'd just now made her realize that she was completely wasting her time and was preparing a "Fuck you I'm done" speech, but instead she said, "Well... what did you get out of all those times you talked to me at school? You could have been spending that time with anyone else, but you always talked to me. So why bother?"

Why couldn't he stop blushing...? Crap, this was embarrassing- he stammered out, "B-Because..  I care about you."

She smiled; not the wide grin he was used to seeing but something more soft... quiet... vulnerable. "And that's your answer." Just as quickly, the smile disappeared and she moved closer; somehow he knew it wasn't with any intentions other than keeping warm, but that didn't faze him. "Now go on and go to sleep. We only have so much time to rest."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It only took a few more days to reach Makoto's hometown. Makoto was understandably giddy, prepared to dash off ahead at any moment, but Mukuro held him back. "Uh... before we do this, I gotta tell you something."

"Okay!" He didn't seem suspicious at all.

"Let's... go somewhere safe." She hated being out in the open, but that was probably true for any soldier; after all, who the hell knew when someone could open fire on you, and when you're in a huge space, where are you supposed to hide?

Mukuro was worried at the state of the buildings around them- they were all abandoned. Would Makoto's family still be here...? If he left her after she confessed and they weren't, who would be there to protect him? Well... if it came to that she would just protect him from a distance, and if they were there he would just ditch her and then she'd go back to Junko. He would be safe no matter what and that was all that mattered..  so why was despair overcoming every last fiber of her being?

She shoved her thoughts away and just led him to an abandoned book store that looked safe; "I used to buy manga here," Makoto reminisced sadly upon entering. Mukuro didn't know how to respond anymore, so she just took a seat at one of the tables and waited until he'd done the same. "What's going on, Junko?" 

Well... that was as good a place to start as any. Her voice slipped into her natural tone as she replied, "I've been... lying to you, Makoto. My real name is Mukuro Ikusaba. Junko Enoshima is my twin sister, and..."

She told him everything. She'd expected to see a whole spectrum of emotions on his face as she spoke, but all she noticed was shock and disbelief. Eventually he interrupted- "Is this a joke...? I mean, you're... Junko...?"

Meeting his eyes, her own devoid of emotion, she removed the wig. "What...? And you're..  really a member...?" Still not letting her emotions show, she wiped her hand on the back of her shirt and showed him the tattoo, then carried on with her story.

"And that's how all of this happened. It's all my fault. I... I wish I could take it back, but I don't deserve your forgiveness or time or anything else. I wish I could actually return your memories. I wish I could take it all back."

His gaze flicked to the table, his eyes shimmering with tears. "This... really isn't a joke?"

She lowered her head. "It isn't. I'm sorry. I'll... I'll leave your sight now." 

"What- no! Please don't go!" Her eyes stretched wide in shock as he continued, "I... I'm not angry. It... I mean, you said you were sorry, and... it's not really your fault-"

"I understand that most people would blame themselves for something as horrible as this happening, but as a member of Ultimate Despair myself, I assure you this is genuinely my fault."

"Well..." He sighed, his face paler and his eyes dimmed. "It's your fault, but... I must have been awful too, to have known you and Junko so long without noticing anything."

"Makoto..." Her brow creased, her mind overflowing with new emotions. "That's not-"

"But it doesn't matter. What's done is done, right? All we can do now is have hope for the future." He smiled, so hopefully and stupidly. He wasn't angry; Junko would have created an essay on how idiotic he was. But to Mukuro, he wasn't stupid, just... innocent. He had to be protected at all costs. 

"Makoto, I... I don't know what to say." Tears of her own were mirroring his, and then, he took her hand like he had all those days ago. 

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything." His smile was like an antidote to everything horrible in this world. "Just... I mean, it's all in the past. We have to make it better now."

Part of him knew this was foolish, but.... He truly couldn't bring himself to be angry at someone who clearly wasn't a bad person. She'd done bad things, but so had he, apparently. He did believe her, as gullible as that might be- it all added up, after all. 

Abruptly, she let out a sob, the sound so unrecognizable and tragic it physically hurt to hear. "Makoto... I don't deserve such kindness, you... You're far too g-good for this world..."

His face flushed as he gave her hand a tight squueze. "I'm really not, but... I want to be the best I can for you, if that makes sense. I don't want you to have to feel that despair ever again."

She sniffled, and just like that, the tears stopped as she nodded solemnly. "And I'll protect you."

"So this means we're even!" He laughed softly, doing his best to his lighten the mood. The truth was, his mind was reeling, but he could focus on that later; she'd put his needs above her own this whole time and the least he could do was return the favor. 

She smiled, the gesture so sad and sweet at the same time. "Thank you, Makoto."

"It's nothing." He finally let her hand go. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Are you ready to go? Even if they... aren't there... I can track them down as long as they're-" She cut herself off.

"See what I mean? You're amazing!" 

With no warning whatsoever, she pulled him into her arms; his whole body went stiff, his face pinker than their friends' blood. The gesture seemed to have shocked her as well, as just as quickly she backed away, readjusting her clothes and standing up with a soft cough. "T-Then... shall we go?"

"Y-Yeah." Makoto stood, following her outside. "Hey, Mukuro?" She turned. "I promise, no matter what... I'll never treat you the way she did. I'll never let you feel like that again."

She smiled, her dark hair gently fluttering in the wind. "You... are worthy of love, Makoto." 

He couldn't respond, but that was alright. They'd have time to say everything eventually.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the first time I've ever written for a straight couple... I think it probably sucked. Writing from Mukuro's perspective was really difficult for me because I couldn't be sure how much of what she said as Junko was partway true or full out lies. Ugh. But I do hope it was at least semi-enjoyable!
> 
> Danganronpa is fucking destroying me btw. I loved every single character in this cast, and I HAVE NEVER HAD A STRAIGHT OTP BEFORE BUT MAKOTO AND MUKURO??? GOD HELP ME THEY'RE PERFECT! But anyway, once I finish the second game my fics won't be quite as awful since I'll be going back to my comfort zone of male POV and BL because. NAGITO X HAJIME. OH. MY. GOD. THOSE BOYS *choking pig noises*
> 
> I really hope Japanese gas stations sell the same weird-assed shit American ones do. Anddd I've never been a fan of purposefully pulling a whole Doran Gray boys blush every 10 seconds thing but for some reason Makoto strikes me as that type. Honestly who wouldn't around MUKURO AODIDOPEKID0DKEKDPOCNELDP9KB9
> 
> EDIT- SHOUT OUT TO @Crabboy3 for helping me with a mistake in this, thank you!!!!


End file.
